


To Begin Again

by Pixiestick_cc



Series: Bruises and Flowers Universe [4]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cultural Differences, F/M, First Dates, Fish out of Water, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, POV Alternating, Worldbuilding, well as best as i can
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2020-03-20 16:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18996604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiestick_cc/pseuds/Pixiestick_cc
Summary: Rayla and Callum want to define their relationship outside of what they had during the war and attempt to present themselves as normal even when others consider them far from it.





	1. Part One: Ruled by Secrecy

Callum readied himself for the day, taking a little extra time perfecting his appearance. His mirror, which had barely been touched in the years since he’d returned home, was suddenly getting much more attention. Which actually meant, _he_ was getting much more attention. It was all a bit pointless. Rayla had fallen in love with him under the worst possible circumstances. At times they both went days without seeing their reflections or being able to bathe. And yet, he had this urge to present his best self now that he was able, showing Rayla what he was capable of beyond the travel-weary, battle-scarred, mediocre mage she’d grown accustomed to. This new Callum could dress well if he wanted. Comb his hair and clean his teeth.

But today his grooming wasn’t just for Rayla. He was going to ask a favor of his brother who had a lot of his own stresses to deal with as a fourteen-year-old with a kingdom to manage and a brother who’d only been half there for him since returning from war. Fourteen. Close to the same age as Callum when he'd first set foot in Xadia. Both brothers too young to fully understand the trauma they would be weighed down with when all was said and done. Although, nothing was ever truly said and done when it came to war. While not always present, grief and darkness laid in wait, ready to shock them at the most inopportune times. Memories of all the terrible things they’d seen and done. And of those who hadn't returned.

Callum studied his reflection, the slight scar to the right of his eye seeming more prominent today than usual. That had been from an enemy’s blade Rayla stopped just in time. And then there was the way his neck ached from when he’d nearly been strangled to death. So many signs- some obvious, some not- that were reminders of a painful past. Signs his brother had too. Since coming home, Callum had sometimes taken his brother for granted. Sure, he contributed to their kingdom, sat in on meetings, offered advice. But as the paintings strewn across his room could attest, he’d dealt with his physical and mental wounds by losing a part of who he was. Without Ezran’s support, Callum wasn’t sure where he’d be. And now, he was about to ask him for more help.

Pulling in a lung full of air, Callum held it for a moment, before exhaling loudly. Then straightening his scarf, he sent his reflection an unconvincing grin and exited the room to meet with Rayla. Typically, the halls were empty this time of the day. Mostly just staff; the few he saw nodded or smiled as he passed.

When Rayla emerged from her room wearing a dress, Callum raised his brows. “What?” she demanded. “You told me to spruce myself up and you’ve seen me in this thing before. Don’t act so surprised.”

He shrugged. “I know, but I can’t help it. You basically wore the same outfit the whole time we were together in Xadia.”

“Well, at least I’m not living in the past,” she wryly ridiculed, tugging on his scarf. Her eyes glinted.

Callum straightened his scarf, willing to take on the challenge of giving as good as he got, but held back the blithe retort he had waiting, after spying someone walking towards them. Another staff member. Callum went to smile a greeting, but the look the man gave him communicated he clearly wanted to escape his chance encounter with the prince and his elf friend. Glancing away, Callum caught Rayla’s eye. She’d felt the silent rebuke too. Neither mentioned it out loud, but they didn’t need to. It was quite apparent what the man had meant to subtly relay to them.

Thankfully, the kitchen was nearby and filled with friendly faces that outnumbered the unpleasant one from the hall. And inside- exactly where Callum knew he’d be- was his brother, loaded up with jelly tarts. His welcome was just as warm as the kitchen staff's. “Callum! Rayla! Come get some of these. They’re best when they’re fresh.”

“Yeah, get ‘em before he eats ‘em all,” a woman’s voice rose above all the clatter of pots and pans, and Callum chuckled. For as much as his brother had changed, he’d also stayed the same.

“So what brings you down here?” Ezran asked, shoving jelly-filled pastries in their direction as they approached. Callum took a bite, but Rayla remained a step behind him, uncharacteristically timid. She laid her tart back on the baker’s counter.

“Well, I have an idea," Callum answered, “and wanted to get your opinion.”

Ezran feigned annoyance. “You sound just like all those self-important people who constantly need my approval for things.” He was joking, but Callum could see the thinly veiled honesty behind the sarcasm. Being King was a responsibility his brother took on selflessly, but most days he’d rather be in the forest communicating with animals.

“Well, this will be better because it involves Rayla. And she’s only self-important every other day.” Callum winked at her and she exaggerated an eye roll.

“Okay, then what is it?” Ezran appeared intrigued while shoving the last bits of a jelly tart in his mouth.

Callum swallowed. “Well, it’s about me and Rayla, and us wanting to be more truthful with everyone. Can the three of us talk somewhere more private?”

* * *

 

Ezran suggested they use his planning room, given that name after the war ended. Callum hadn’t been around when its official title was used- the war room- but as a child, he’d seen his father enter there plenty of times. Usually, with Viren leading the way and an entourage of lackeys following. An unwelcome image flashed inside Callum’s mind of a man who since his death had become a repressed memory. Not so much a man, but an opportunistic monster who through his greed had taken so much from him, from his family, and from their kingdom. A tightness knotted in the center of his chest, with growing threads reaching out threatening to pull him under water. After passing through the threshold of the room, he paused staring at the long rectangular table with a row of chairs placed on either side and a large ornate one at the head for Ezran. He imagined Viren sitting there, his face distorted in a mix of contrasting colors like it had near the end. The situation inside Callum’s mind was devolving quickly; he felt lightheaded and was certain a panic attack wasn’t far off.

_Of all times for this to happen!_

But Rayla- so attuned to him even after their long separation- sensed his discomfort and snaked an arm around his back, steadying him, an encouraging smile on her lips. With her help, Callum was able to force the image of evil from his mind and by the time they all sat at the table- Ezran foregoing his chair and sitting directly across from them- panic no longer threatened to hold him hostage … for now.

“This room hardly gets used anymore, but it’s great for private conversations,” Ezran stated, relaxing lazily in his chair, a smidge of jelly clinging to the corner of his mouth. “So, what did you wanna ask me that you couldn’t back in the kitchen?” When a situation required it, Callum’s brother could pull on a mask of stern stoicism, but how he looked now, that was his true nature. Ezran was a kid, who wasn’t allowed to be one and therefore never forgot to sink into the skin of a boy without responsibilities when the rare chance presented itself.

But a moment later, that mature king- the one he was forced to be at times- shoved this nonchalant boy aside after Callum made his request. “Well Ez, Rayla and I would like to be more open about our relationship. Dating. Mated. Courting ... whatever you want to call it. We want to show the kingdom that a relationship with an elf and human is possible. But mostly we don’t want to hide who we are and thought you could host a celebration to ...”

Callum hesitated; Ezran had placed a hand up, showing his palm, a gesture he’d seen their father make many times. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, because I think you and Rayla wanting to be open about your relationship is great and I support that, but as king, I have to approach this from another point of view.”

Rayla and Callum shared a look, anxiety written in her furrowed brow. He squeezed her hand then asked his brother, “What do you mean?”

Ezran rested his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Other kingdoms might see your relationship as a political statement, that we’re siding with the Moonshadow elves, trying to create a greater kingdom with better resources. More than theirs.”

“But our relationship has nothing to do with politics. Rayla’s not even royal,” Callum countered, his voice rising slightly in disbelief. “And I’m not even king.”

“But you're my brother, and it’s not unheard of to use siblings as pawns to form alliances.”

Callum couldn’t deny this, although the practice hadn’t been used in recent times. Still, there were stories from past generations of alliances formed through marriage. Ezran’s disapproval of his request no longer surprised him, but the wound inflicted by his practicality still lingered.

“I want you to know that this doesn't mean I’m against you and Rayla eventually presenting yourselves as a couple,” Ezran continued. “I’m only suggesting that you take your time. Not everyone knows about your past the way I do. Give people a chance to come to terms with a human and elf together. Make it seem like a natural progression and not a political statement." He paused, motioning towards Rayla. "Give the kingdom time to see you as one of them. You and Callum have been separated for a long time. Maybe it would be good to start fresh and if you just so happen to let others see that process, then it might help. Maybe you could even find a purpose for yourself among our people. You’re a trained spy and assassin, that could be useful in the Royal Guard.”

Rayla didn’t outright blanch at this idea, but Callum saw the way she sank into her chair and hugged herself. “You sound like you’re strategizing our relationship as a battle plan," he remarked derisively, coming to her defense.

Ezran deflated, a bit of his kingly presence shrinking behind the insecurity of his older brother’s disapproval. When he talked as a ruler, it was sometimes easy to forget his actual age, and Callum rushed to apologize, but Rayla got there first. “And that’s understandable,” she said. “We need a battle plan if we’re gonna fight against preconceived notions. Prejudices. What were we thinkin’, Callum? A party? Where we just come out and say, 'Here we are together. Hope you're okay with that.' Nothin’ has ever been as simple as a party when it comes to us. We shoulda known.”  

“But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t love to have you be part of our family, because to me you already are my sister and have been for years,” Ezran added, regaining his composure. "It might sound dumb, but let our people feel that way about you too. It'll take time, but I don't see why a wedding wouldn't eventually be possible."

Rayla looked demurely aside and Callum felt the burn of a blush creeping up his neck. A wedding? Now that definitely wouldn’t be simple, but something he could see happening in the future. He hoped.

* * *

 

“He wants me to join the Royal Guard?” Rayla kept saying in exasperation. “Fightin’ is the last thing I wanna do. I’ve done my fair share.”

They were walking through the palace garden, trying to make sense of things. A bee buzzed by Callum’s ear and he swatted it away.

“No one's really fighting right now and it’s only so others will see you’re on our side.” Even Callum hated the way it sounded and shook his head. “N-not that there are sides anymore. But kinda like when you were a spy back in Xadia. Just that it’ll be good for everyone to see you in Katolis colors.” Ugh, Ezran had explained it so much better. Why was he even trying to convince Rayla? It was only making things worse. “Look.” He forced his voice to be even, smooth, and not the bumbling idiot squeak he had been using. “You know none of this matters to me. We could just leave now. Go make our little cottage and live outside of the box everyone’s trying to shove us in. Just you and me. And our garden.”

Rayla stopped walking, a distant look clouding her eyes. Then she turned to him and moved her bottom lip between her teeth, gnawing the skin briefly. “You know, Ezran is the only family we still have. I don’t wanna lose him too.”

“Well, there’s also my Aunt Amya,” Callum mentioned. Rayla’s gaze instantly narrowed; the two hadn’t exactly had the best introduction and their relationship never recovered despite them eventually fighting on the same side back in Xadia. "Hey, it’s okay. Things are different now.”

“Not different enough apparently,” Rayla huffed but quickly backtracked. “I’m sorry. Today was a setback for us both, not just me. I'm bein' selfish. And everythin’ Ez said made sense. He’s a smart fella. No wonder Katolis is okay with a kid for a king.”

Callum took her hand. “But you’re the one making all the sacrifices. You left your home. Your people. And you’re the only elf around a bunch of humans. So, let me make one too.” He couldn’t believe what he was about to say and gulped. “I’ll join the guard with you.”

When Rayla laughed, he tried not to take it personally. “No,” she told him once the humor in his ridiculous declaration ran its course. “I wouldn't have time to save your hide if I was tryn'a defend the kingdom too.” She removed her hand from Callum’s and patted his cheek in a condescending way. He couldn’t even be annoyed; Rayla was right.

“So, what’s the solution then?” Callum asked, lifting her hand from his face so he could brush a kiss against her knuckles.

She smiled then replied, “Well, for starters, we could do as Ez suggested. Start fresh. Which means, you sir, are gonna take me out on a proper Katolis date so you can show me off to your people. We need to start definin' our relationship outside of what we had during the war and focus on makin' us seem normal.”


	2. Chapter 2

Rayla lay awake in the guestroom, the soft light of morning peeking through the curtains as the sensation of Callum at her side still loomed in her memory. His arms around her. Their lips moving in a rhythm, sometimes soft, other times urgent as if it might be their last. But mostly she thought of when he’d called her his mate. It had been a high point in their relationship that sadly only lasted a few hours. The natural progression of their love stalled because there would be no halfway with Ezran’s plan.

No sneaking around. No playing the part of friends while they continued on as mates in secret. Starting fresh meant learning to fall in love all over again and doing it mostly for the benefit of others. It felt calculating and cold. Not like when they’d slowly drifted towards a realization that two very different individuals guided by a shared purpose could also experience a shared love. Bruises and Flowers. It’s what they were ... or what they used to be.

Now it was time to think like a human.

Moonshadow elves didn’t marry for convenience, for alliances, or money. Love was earned over time and never in question once it was spoken. That was how it had been with Callum. Although at Runaan’s insistence, Rayla had attempted to move on after the war by entering a false relationship. Her only defense was that at the time she thought it was love. A hollow echo of what she’d had with Callum but enough to feed her denial. Once the decision had been made to leave, she’d ended it, breaking that sacred vow. The bonding ceremony hadn’t taken place, and yet enough had transpired between them that she’d done a great disservice to what her people were known for. But it would’ve been an even greater transgression if she’d stayed. Rayla had hope that he was able to move on but disliked herself for letting their relationship get as far as it did. She ran a hand through her hair, treating his memory like a tangle that needed to be brushed away. She would rather not start her day thinking about him.

Back in Xadia, early mornings were for reflection. Usually done while manipulating the body into various poses that stretched muscles and helped her focus. If there was a full moon and no planned assault on an enemy, another form of this meditation could be attempted, supposedly to help her connect with the moon. Rayla had always failed at this though. Never quite getting that feeling everyone else did. Since coming to Katolis, she’d ignored this mainstay of a Moonshadow elf’s life due to being preoccupied with Callum. Now that they were moving at a slower pace, she found herself alone and experiencing the early morning reflection part, but not the building of her inner and outer strength.

“Well, now’s as good a time as ever to get back to it,” she commented to an empty room and went to stretch out on the floor. The stone was cold; if she were a Sunfire elf, Rayla could’ve conjured up some flames in the fireplace. Callum had managed to kindle the fire for her this past week, but of course, he was absent now. It didn’t matter. She’d experienced far worse while an assassin and spy. Meditating on a cold floor hardly compared.

Time stilled as Rayla slowly twisted her body from one position to another, introspection pulling her deeper into her mind. Mentally, she was far enough away that a knock at the door startled her. Letting out a little noise of surprise, she lost her pose, attempted to right herself, but eventually fell flat on her back. The shock of the cold floor seeping through her thin shift caused Rayla to shout out, “Callum?” louder than she intended.

It was quiet on the other side of the door for a moment, before a voice not at all belonging to her mate replied, “No, it’s uh … well, my name is Lilith. But Callum did send me. May I come in?”

A bit of ingrained assassin skepticism held Rayla back, but she shrugged off the instinct and answered, “Yes, come in.” Even if this was a trick, she knew how to defend herself. There was a click in the door's lock, and pulling her body from the floor, she instinctively reached for the blades tucked under the bed.

The girl that entered was hardly a threat. Small and frail, she looked about Rayla’s age, wearing the uniform of the palace staff with her tawny hair tied neatly into a bun. But it was her face that revealed the most. Rayla’s eyes were instantly drawn to what likely had once been deep gashes along her right cheek. Now healed, they resembled three iridescently pink ridges that stretched from just under her eye all the way down to her chin. And with the way she angled that side of her face away, Rayla speculated these old wounds were a sensitive topic not to be broached.

“Callum thought you might need help, a-a handmaiden or lady’s maid if you prefer, to show you our culture while you’re a guest here,” Lilith said as she timidly approached, her crooked nose coming into focus. Presumably, it had been broken at some point without the proper healing techniques to bring the bone back to its original state.

Easing out of her defensive posture, Rayla got to her feet. “Well, if Callum sent you then you must be the best handmaiden,” she complimented, her smile wide and genuine. Wanting to show Lilith that she was accepting of her differences, Rayla extended her hand to offer a shake- the way humans did- but then thought better of it. Four fingers against five. That was more unnatural than scars. So instead, she did an awkward closed handed wave to cover her misstep.

In response, Lilith held out her own hand and drew Rayla’s back in. She still appeared hesitant, but it seemed this had more to do with her personality than any trepidation over an elf in the palace. Or the four fingers now enveloped by her five. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Rayla. Callum’s told me so much about you.”

* * *

 

Rayla owned a dress. She’d brought it with her, but there was a difference between what elves considered a gown and what humans did. And she decided it was not to her liking. Still, she endured Lilith helping her get ready for the day, putting clothes on her she’d rather not wear, all while holding back the agitated elven curse just waiting on her tongue. This was what had to be done. Part of the strategy of helping others in Katolis see her as one of them. But for moonlight’s sake, she couldn’t even move in the frilly atrocity! If Rayla lifted her arms more than halfway, there was a strain at the seams.

_And Ezran wants me to join the Royal Guard? Is this what he dresses them in? Outfits that restrict their movement?_

The colors were nice at least, a muted blue with white lace. Nothing to make her stand out. She might never get used to human attire, but at least her annoyance receded some by the time Callum walked her to breakfast. And really, with the way he beamed at her, he could make any person with a heart forget all their troubles momentarily.

It wasn’t a formal affair, but even so, she hadn’t dined with Ezran and his palace entourage before- choosing instead to eat in her room- and it made her slightly uncomfortable. She didn’t speak to anyone but Callum, and it was only in hushed tones about innocuous subjects that one would discuss during polite human conversations. When they were finally free, Rayla expressed her relief with a long exasperated sigh that didn’t go unnoticed.

“I take it breakfast wasn’t what you were expecting?” Callum asked. He was attempting to be casual, humorous even, but there was a layer of disappointment in his tease, hidden just below the surface.

He’d decided to take her on a walk through the streets of Katolis, near the bustling market district that was more alive than anything that had taken place during their breakfast. “No offense to what Ezran is trying to do for us, but _that_ was stressful.”

“Well, you seemed to like the food, at least. You kept whispering to me about it.”

“What else was I supposed to talk about? I felt if I said anythin’ that strayed too far into real life, I might expose us.” She shook her head, strands freeing themselves from the loose bun Lilith had designed, one that partially hid her horns and ears.

Callum grimaced. “It’ll get better. You’ll learn. Remember I didn’t always live in the palace. My mom was just like these people,” he gestured around, “a commoner who caught the King’s eye. So, I had to learn all the rules too.”

“I know, I know,” Rayla replied. She went to reach for his hand but saw a passerby give them a look and then thought better of it. “But in the meantime, could you take me to a place that serves real food. I’m famished.”

A stricken look crossed Callum’s face. “What was all that talk to me about the meal then?”

“I was playin’ a part, you silly human. Actin’ like one of you fools- a person who actually likes that muck. I’ve done it before, remember? Want a repeat of my greatest actin' moments from our journey?” Rayla nudged him with her shoulder after he rolled his eyes.

“Come on, human,” he deadpanned. “I know exactly where to take you.”

* * *

 

They kept walking down the winding streets, ducking out of the way of carts and people, and pausing once so Rayla could buy a trinket from an elderly lady. She wasn’t sure what the item was for but smiled and thanked the woman, which had been the purpose of stopping at her stall in the first place, to mingle with Callum’s people.

After leaving, Rayla began fiddling with the silver attached to twine she'd purchased. Callum noticed and mentioned, “It’s a locket,” before offering to put it around her neck. Her useless dress contained exactly zero pockets, so Rayla agreed. Moving behind her, he reached around, and let the cool metal fall against her chest as he tied the back, his fingers lingering on the nape of her neck once he was done. Rayla shivered, and then Callum was at her side again, leading the way towards an eatery just a few steps away.

The inside was tiny with only four tables, ten chairs and a counter in the back where meals were prepared. He told her he knew about this place because of his troubles returning to a life of eating food made from animals after his time in Xadia. The center of nearly every Katolis dish just happened to be meat.

“You coulda just, you know, not eaten anythin’ that used to be alive,” Rayla suggested, her tone just caustic enough for him to notice.

Callum shrugged. “I tried, but I was already perceived as strange when I came home. Add a layer of _he no longer eats meat_ on top of _he’s obsessing over an elf_ , and I had to let one of those things go.” His eyes drifted from his food to her face, a meaningful look in them. “And it wasn’t going to be you.”

After that, Rayla couldn’t complain. Callum had a good heart, even in his failures. And it was this reminder of his empathy that bridged into another thought. She took a bite of her leafy greens wrapped around rice then shifted their conversation. “So tell me about Lilith. She seems nice.”

Callum had just finished his own leafy rice dish and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. She grinned at how un-princely he could be at times. “Oh yeah, she’s very nice, but tends to be kept out of sight because of her facial scars. They assign her tasks where she works behind closed doors. You can imagine how much time I spent locked away too my first year back and I feel like we connected over it. Anyway, she listened to me during some of my more difficult days, and because of it, I trust her.”

“Oh?” Rayla whispered, heat rising to her face, a sudden feeling of self-consciousness taking over. What exactly had Callum told Lilith on his _difficult_ days?

“And I thought giving her the job of your handmaiden wouldn’t cause any issues. She already knows about us. No need to worry that you’ll say something you’re not supposed to. She's supportive of what we're trying to do.”

Rayla wasn’t sure if she should ask the next question on her mind- if it was her right to even know- but then Callum answered without the subject ever having to be brought up. He knew and anticipated everything about her. “The scars are from the war. It’s a sad story really.” The explanation was brief, an indication that this was all he could share. The rest of the story was Lilith's to tell.

“Your Aunt Amaya has a scar on her cheek,” Rayla blurted, not seeing how this was relevant, but wanting to fill the sullen silence that had blanketed them.

A corner of Callum’s mouth pulled upward and he chuckled. “Good observation. Did you use your uh assassin skills to figure that out?”

Rayla tossed a grain of rice his way in retaliation. “Better watch it or I’ll use some of those skills on you.”

“What’s to learn? You already know everything about me.”

“Not everythin',” she replied, arching an eyebrow, a hint of insinuation in her voice. Now she really _was_ behaving like a human, with all their uncouth mannerisms. But she felt no regret. It made Callum turn as bright as a moonberry, meaning Rayla had won this round.

That was until he worked through his embarrassment enough to say, “Speaking of my Aunt Amaya, I thought we could pay her a visit today to discuss the Royal Guard. You two have so much catching up to do.”

Rayla frowned. It seemed Callum had won this time after all.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn’t that the meeting with Aunt Amaya didn’t go well, it was just that it didn’t go anywhere at all. Rayla had learned the way to communicate with his aunt years back when they fought together in Xadia, but she was a little rusty, and when Callum kept signing corrections to mistakes, her irritation grew until she abruptly stood. Ending the meeting much sooner than anticipated, she said, “Thank you for taking the time to see me. You’ve given me a lot to think about.” 

“Rayla, wait.” Callum reached for her hand only to have his meet with thin air. She’d already bolted out the door.

“Is she alright?” Amaya signed to Callum. 

“Of course,” he replied, but honestly couldn’t be certain, and after catching up with Rayla outside, Callum asked the same question as his aunt. “Are you mad at me? Was it all my interfering? I’m sorry. I always do that. I’ve just been communicating that way with her since forever. Sometimes I take over for people who don’t do it well. It’s a bad habit.” He grimaced. “Not that you don’t do it well, you do. You’re great at communicating with signs. Perfect even-”

“Callum,” Rayla reached out and smooshed a finger against his lips.

“Yush?” he replied, her finger causing him to speak like a toddler.

“Your communicatin’ too much.” She released his mouth and Callum dipped his head sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry.”

“And no, I’m not mad at you. Just at myself.” She leaned her back against the wall, letting out a sigh that came deep from within like she’d been holding her breath.

Moving to stand beside her, Callum nudged their shoulders. “Wanna tell me why?”

Rayla graced him with a sad smile before saying, “Well, I could lie, say I’m fine and we could ignore this for a few days before you bring it up again and then we can deal with it. Or I could just tell you now.”

“Why would I want you to lie?”

“Because it’ll start somethin’, I know it. Bein' back with you hasn’t had too many hiccups yet. I kinda like relivin’ the best parts of our past. Not the ones where we fought over things. And I just don’t think you’ll agree with me on this since, you know, we’re tryn'a follow Ezran’s advice and all.”

“I won’t fight with you, Rayla. I respect your decisions. No matter what they are.” He took her hand. A guard passed and Rayla nervously tried to tug away, but Callum held firm, met the man’s gaze and dared him to balk. He merely gave a polite nod and continued on his way. “So tell me what it is,” he continued, lifting their intertwined fingers to brush a light kiss across the back of her hand. 

“Okay, then,” Rayla began, “I’m mad at myself because I shoulda never gone into that meetin’. I don’t wanna be part of the Royal Guard, Callum, no matter what Ez thinks is best of us. I mean, I’ll defend you if there’s no other option, but I’d rather just live a life where I don’t have to battle against anyone … even if we’re all at peace and I’m only trainin’ to keep up appearances.”  

“Then you don’t have to. We’ll find something else for you to do. There’s plenty of other options. And not just here in the palace either. Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”

“That simple, huh?” she said, giving him a sideways glance. Callum recognized the thick layer of sarcasm she tended to use as a defense when things were looking bleak and he wasn’t about to feed into her cynicism. 

“Yep, that simple, Rayla.” He squeezed her hand to drive his point home. “I’ll never force you to be anyone but who you want to be. We might have to tread lightly with our relationship, but you’re free to do as you want. I’ll support you no matter what.”

She tapped her chin mischievously and grinned. “Are you sure? You might regret sayin’ that. What if I wanted to start paintin’ or sketchin’? I might steal your thunder. Are you prepared to be bested by me?”

“Then I would say go ahead and best me, or better yet …” with their hands still linked, Callum gently pulled her forward, “we could work on art together.”

He began walking, ideas already percolating in his mind of what they could accomplish, but glanced back when Rayla said, “Oh, Callum, I was just teasin’ I’m no good at that stuff. You remember, don’t you?” 

Her protests were tepid at best; she just needed a little encouragement. “That’s because we never had time to really sit down and work on it. You doodling a couple of pictures of Zym in my sketchbook that one time is not the same as what I want to show you.”

“Oh, I dunno, Callum. I’m not talented enough.”

He ignored her objections. “Besides, it’ll give us something to do before dinner.”

They were already at his door, he was just waiting for her approval, which finally came in the form of a weary groan.

“So, if I remember correctly that sound means …” Clearing his throat, he upped the pitch of his voice and affected her accent. “Ugh Callum’s bein' so annoyin’, but I’ll go along with what he wants because I love him dearly.”

Wrinkles of vexation appeared between her eyebrows but were betrayed by the smirk on her lips. “Hey, you’re gettin’ pretty good at that Moonshadow accent.”

“Why thank you.” He feigned a bow and Rayla’s expression softened.

“Alright, Mr. can’t keep his paintbrush to himself, I’ll let you be my art teacher,” she relented before quickly adding the caveat, “But just for today.”

“I’ll change your mind before the day is over.”

“No, you won’t.” She tugged on his scarf.

“Yes, I will.” He reached up and ran his fingers gingerly down the side of her neck, stopping at the locket she’d bought at the market earlier. Tiny hinges squeaked as he clicked it open. The inside was about the size of a dandelion head ready to be swept away by the wind. 

“See somethin’ you like?” Rayla asked, pulling Callum from his thoughts.

“Since a certain elf came back into my life, always,” he answered. “And would you look at that, she’s right in front of me.” Callum brought her inside and with the door firmly shut, he pressed his lips to hers. “You’ll be begging me for another lesson by the time this one is over,” he said, continuing their disagreement once his mouth was free to speak again. “Trust me, I can be a very persuasive teacher.”

“Not such a good teacher if all you’re gonna do is distract me with your lips,” Rayla replied, moving in for another kiss, but Callum glided out of reach over to his easel. Returning, he handed her a piece of graphite. 

“Just like with kissing you have to work your way up to it, so I thought we’d start small with graphite. And the further we go … well … tomorrow I might let you look at my oil paints just so you can feel their raw power.” He gave her a lopsided grin and Rayla rolled her eyes.

“If you’re gonna compare your art to your kissin’ then I’m gonna be stuck using this graphite for a long while.”

Callum wasn’t offended. When it came to their relationship, it was generally true that Rayla was more often than not the instigator while he was mostly the poetic fool who could say and draw how he felt, but rarely acted upon it. “Good point,” he chuckled. “Let’s make a comparison that doesn’t remind me of my inadequacies.”

“How about you have to work your way up to fallin’ in love. Spend time workin’ together towards a shared goal until one day it all makes sense. He finds you in a forest and tells you he loves you. Art is like love.”

“Art is like love,” Callum repeated, his voice suddenly thick with sentiment. He returned to his easel for a moment, trying to pull himself together. So much of his artwork over the last three years had been an exhibition of the painful emotions that plagued him due to their separation. He had created to remember. To grieve. His art hadn't been like love but rather for a lost love. And his sudden slip into the past made him acutely aware that while he and Rayla were now together, they both still had chasms of lingering loneliness needing to be filled.

Likely sensing his distress, Rayla came up behind him. Her movements as stealthy as ever, he didn’t detect her until she was essentially breathing down his neck, his eyes catching sight of her hand reaching over his shoulder to draw a heart on the paper in front of them. He felt his scarf being pulled completely away, followed by the sensation of Rayla’s lips on the back of his neck- warm and soft- and it made his insides turn to mush, melting the icy memories away.

“Why not both,” she suggested, inching back, her breath still hot on his skin. “They go hand and hand. Kissin’ and love.”

Callum turned around. “Are we even talking about art anymore?”

Rayla shrugged. Releasing her graphite it clattered at their feet as her fingertips began a journey up his throat, stalling briefly at his jaw before creating a trail back to the base of his neck where she threaded her fingers through his hair. Slowly, she brought him to her mouth and soon hands and lips were caressing in a heated bliss so intense Callum had sense enough to gently press against her breast bone, the cold metal of the locket touching his palm as he nudged her away. “Looks like the student is trying to distract the teacher,” he said breathlessly into a broken kiss. And then an abrupt laugh rumbled in his chest as he eased further away.

“Why are you laughin’?” Rayla asked, opening her eyes. The mouth he’d just been kissing pulled down into a pout because naturally, it wasn’t a good idea to laugh after you’d just finished a romantic encounter with your mate. Before she had a chance to inspect his face, Callum went to get the handheld mirror he sometimes used to capture facial expressions while painting. Holding it up for Rayla, he watched as her eyes grew wide and she doubled over with her own trill of giggles. Lowering it, he then made a flourish with his hand as if putting his face on display, assuming the graphite was just as bad on him. “Guess kissin’ and art aren’t comparable at all, they’re not even compatible,” she mentioned with a shake of the head before using Callum’s scarf to remove the grayish-silver covering her face and neck. Then handing it to him she added, “Better remove the evidence from your body too.”

“Or,” Callum reasoned, running the red fabric down his cheek, “they’re so compatible that they can’t exist together because you’ll never get anything done.”

Rayla didn’t dispute his claim, she simply took Callum's scarf back and rubbing it on his nose, she said, “You missed a spot.”


	4. Chapter 4

Callum’s claim that Rayla would be begging him for another art lesson by the end of her first didn’t exactly come to fruition. And if she were being completely honest, having another go at drawing boxes because in Calum’s words- “You need to start small and it’ll teach you how to shade,” was something she’d be content with never having to do again.

And yet, she would. 

Learning the finer details of box shading wasn’t her passion in life, but Callum’s happiness was. The way he talked about art, his whole face lit up, and even if she’d rather be holding his hand than some messy graphite, Rayla could see how these two actions had the same outcome. Both were ways to show him love. 

These were the little things missing from their relationship during headier times. Normal was relative to each individual, but Rayla decided she didn’t want her normal with Callum to be constantly fighting battles side by side, saving each other’s lives multiple times, and never really enjoying the respite of quieter moments because exhaustion tended to pull them quickly under. She wanted her normal to be putting up with art lessons because she loved seeing Callum happy. That was the crux of their new life together. To be happy and also enjoy the mundane. A relationship without a war constantly drowning them out, where their cultures complemented instead of divided. A quieter normal.

So after a few hours of interchanging art lessons with moments of soft connection- sometimes with words, other times with mouths, and once she even twisted a lock of Callum’s hair into a small braid- Rayla agreed that at least for the time being this would be a daily thing. But she had to put on a show of annoyance in her acceptance if only to tease him. Because that was their normal too.

Eventually, the day got away from them, with pages of crudely drawn boxes strewn across his floor, revealing Rayla’s promising talent (Callum’s words, not hers). He tidied them up into a collection on his easel, while Rayla commented that she’d prefer seeing them in the garbage. Ignoring her remark, Callum led her to his bed, where they sat across from each other and slowly began removing more accidental trails of graphite from their skin. Rayla went first, using his scarf, she wound it across his jaw and his hands. When it was Callum’s turn, he brushed the soft red fabric down her neck but stalled around her collarbone, a curious look on his face. Then dropping the scarf, he gently lifted her locket. “Mind if I steal this for a while?” 

She tilted her head to the side. “Why?”

“Well, I have an idea.” When her eyes widened, silently conveying he should be less cryptic, Callum added, “It’s a surprise.”

“Hmmm, so secretive. I’m not sure I can trust you with such an important item as my beloved locket,” she demurred.

“Well, I can tell by the arch of your eyebrow that you don’t actually mind, you’re just giving me a hard time for your own amusement. And you’ve had this all of what? A few hours? I doubt it’s as beloved as you say,” Callum replied, laying the locket back against her chest. “So if I’m right and you don’t mind.” He gestured to the back of her neck. Rayla pursed her lips, but obliged him, twisting the twine around so that the knot he’d tied earlier was in reach. Loosening it, Callum slid the necklace in his pocket. “Thanks,” he said. Rayla wanted to be irritated with the smirk on his lips but found it impossible to hate something so cute.

“You’re no fun. Guess, you just know me too well.” She sighed dramatically. “We’re practically a dull old couple.” It was meant as a joke but using a more genuine inflection, Rayla mused, “And you know what, that’s okay. I like dull. I like quiet. I like these soft moments with you.”

“Wow, you really know how to puff up my pride. Dull and old. Those are great words every boyfriend wants to hear,” Callum dryly commented.

Rayla leaned in to give him a quick kiss. “After what we’ve lived through, I think bein’ dull and old are the greatest accomplishments of all. It means we survived.” Their expressions silently communicated the years of hardships they'd endured that had brought them to this point. A mixture of sadness, relief, and love, before Rayla broke the spell by lightly tugging at the small braid resting just above his ear. “Same time, same place tomorrow? Since, you know, I already agreed and can’t go back on my word. Elf’s honor and all.” Raising her hand, Rayla revealed her palm as if she were taking an oath.

“I’ll be here, waiting, but I’m sure we’ll run into each other before then,” Callum said, pressing his palm to hers. Elf hand against human. Their fingers laced as they stood.

“You so sure about that?” Rayla asked.

“Old and dull, remember? I’ll find something else boring for us to do.”

She opened the door and just before walking out, replied, “Sounds perfect to me.”

What didn’t sound perfect was how she now had to go get ready for a different boring. The kind that didn’t entice her. A semi-formal dinner with terrible human food and tedious conversations about nothing. Although, things weren’t quite as dull on the way back to her room. Rayla passed a few people as she moved through the halls. Most gave her courteous nods, one even asked how her evening was going, while another exhaled a contemptuous huff. She let that last one go with a forced smile, attempting to show him that his irrational dislike of her wasn’t rooted in reality. Still, despite her outward appearance, she wasn’t able to control the frustration bubbling inside.

And perhaps if she hadn’t been stewing so much over that last interaction, Rayla’s instincts would have been sharp enough to sense the hushed commotion coming from just around the corner. Instead, she briefly stumbled to a halt after catching a glimpse of what looked like a romantic encounter between two staff members. Right in front of her door! Quickly slinking out of view, she grumbled to herself, before peeking at the scene again, only to discover it was Lilith with someone towering over her. And there was _nothing_ romantic about his stance. His back was to her, so Rayla couldn’t be certain, but something about the dark slick of his hair and wiry frame seemed familiar. A phantom memory stirred and it was like biting a lemon. 

Even if it appeared that Lilith was unharmed, her trembling bottom lip and rapidly blinking eyes suggested she was upset with the lecture this man was unleashing on her. And his hushed tones did little to diminish the severity of his words. Once she understood the scope of the situation, Rayla didn’t have to mull over what to do. Rounding the corner, her confidence overflowing, she greeted Lilith like an old friend and completely ignored the man by stepping in front of him, forcing his body back with a casual shoulder nudge. 

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here, Lilith,” Rayla enthused with a bright smile. “You were such help this mornin’ gettin' me into this preposterous dress. I find human clothin’ so hard to manage and without you, I probably woulda stumbled into breakfast wearin’ this thing upside down. And I’m sure my evenin’ gown will be just as cumbersome if not more.” 

Rayla had no intention of changing into another dress. One was plenty enough for today, but thinking of Lilith, she had to present a somewhat convincing charade. 

“You know us Moonshadow Elves, we dress lightly, so we can move with ease. The only things ever weighin’ me down back home were my blades. Very sharp, you know.” She turned away from Lilith’s shocked expression to stare at the equally stunned one behind her. “Oh hello, I didn’t see you there. But I do remember your face from the other mornin’. You were so cheery with me and Callum when you passed us on our way to the kitchen.” The man grimaced and Rayla silently relished seeing him squirm. “Well, I’d love to chat about this and that, and all the silly things you humans wear, but I need Lilith’s help. I have a dinner to attend with a prince and king. You know, the two that live here. So, if you don’t mind ...” She gently pushed against the man’s chest. He stumbled back as if the action were more forceful than it actually was. Her four fingers likely a repellence to him. And with that, Rayla pulled a key from her bodice, grasped Lilith’s hand, and after getting them both inside her room, she unceremoniously slammed the door in the man’s face.

“Do you always place your key down your bodice?” Lilith asked and Rayla nearly laughed.

“That’s what you’re wonderin’ about?” she said, turning around.

Lilith nervously smoothed her hands across her apron, eyes darting to the side. “I only asked because I wanted to offer you a satchel or bag, so you would have a place to …” she trailed off, mortification seemingly stealing her voice.

“Lilith, it’s alright.” Rayla stepped forward, wanting to pull her into a reassuring embrace but holding back. “I’m just surprised that your first words weren’t some Katolis curse against that man. Where I’m from we’d call him a moonpox. Who is he by the way?”

She bit the edge of her lip, considering for a moment. “N-no one important. And it’s nothing new.” Her gaze shifted to the window, curtains open revealing a sun dipping low on the horizon.

Every inch of her being urged Rayla to push for more information, but Callum’s voice echoed in her head. This was Lillith’s story to tell and clearly, she felt uncomfortable when the focus was on her. It was also a reminder that even if Rayla had greeted her as an old friend, the two were ultimately still strangers. “So, I had an interestin’ day. Callum started teachin' me art,” she mentioned, attempting to bridge their friendship gap with the person who’d originally connected them. The change of topic eased the tightness in Lillith’s shoulder. She turned back to Rayla, one corner of her mouth tugging upward.

“Did he make you draw boxes?” she asked with a knowing look.

Rayla chuckled. “You too, huh?” 

“Oh, only a few times. It was when he first showed me his art. I made the mistake of asking how he managed to capture a flower’s likeness so well. He seemed happy, so I humored him for a bit.”

Swallowing, a sudden uneasiness twisted Rayla's gut over the thought of Lilith seeing all of Callum's other art. She'd definitely inspired more than a few. “He does like drawin’ flowers,” she agreed. _And my hands. And my face. And ..._

“He likes to draw you too.”

  _… And there it was._  

“But I only saw a few of those.” 

Rayla blew out a breath that sounded too loud in her ears. “Did you now?” 

“Callum's protective of his art of you but he knew I'd appreciate seeing some. There isn’t a lot of elven art around Katolis for obvious reasons. We’ve only been at peace for three years. And seeing portraits of you- well, a Xadian to be more precise- reminded me of happier times.”

“Oh?” Rayla forced the rest of her question to stay in the back of her throat, wanting Lilith’s answer to come naturally. 

But she wasn’t ready to share and shifted their discussion. “By the way, thank you ... for helping me out in the hall. I’m sorry you were forced to step in like that.” Lilith’s smile looked pained, strain showing around the eyes, an indication that the subject was still something she needed time to fully reveal. Just like her apparent history with elves. 

And Rayla would be sure to give her that time because if there was one thing she understood well, it was the instinct to keep others at arm’s length. Before meeting Callum and Ezran, she‘d been exactly the same. “No trouble at all. When I’m supportin’ a friend, I never mind,” Rayla replied.

The slight edge in Lilith's smile appeared to lessen, a warmness lighting her hazel eyes. "Would you like me to choose a new dress for your dinner tonight?"

It took Rayla a moment to understand where her question had come from and she softly laughed. "No, I made that up to get that moonpox out of our hair." But not wanting Lilith to leave so soon, she was quick to add, "Speaking of hair, I might need some help with mine." Rayla bopped her loose bun, which had become even more undone by Callum's wayward fingers. "Maybe you could plait my hair or give me something that doesn't hide my horns so much."     


	5. Chapter 5

Sometimes Callum imagined he was back in Xadia. He’d spent a whole year there. Going from fifteen to sixteen. A time period that usually shapes you as a person. And his experiences then had definitely molded him into who he was today. He’d learned to channel magic, fallen in love, and acquired an appreciation for all living creatures. There had been plenty of bad moments too but those were memories he unwillingly stumbled into. The experiences he freely indulged were of him walking in a land that hummed with magic, the newness of it all tempting his heart to burst with joy. And then he’d snap back to the reality that he was in Katolis. All those _other_ parts of his time in Xadia would come pouring back into his mind, leading him to paint away the sadness.

That had been before Rayla’s return and for the past week or so he’d been thinking of Xadia again, all those good memories mingling with ideas for new ones. Thoughts that maybe they could return someday and journey together like they’d done before. He was well aware of Runaan’s dislike of him. Not so much for the human part, but for Rayla’s connection to him. The few times they’d interacted, he’d responded using only clipped answers to Callum’s tentative questions. His awkward attempts to form some sort of relationship with him never developing beyond that. Runaan’s mate, Ethari, was less dismissive but found it difficult to show support when his other half wore his disapproval of Callum and Rayla like a suit of armor. Then there was that nameless elf Rayla had left behind, and suddenly his idea of returning to Xadia- Rayla’s home specifically- didn’t seem so plausible. Still, he was cautiously hopeful that these issues would sort themselves out over time. It’s what they had now. The freedom to work through the outside influences that made them different and try to bend them to mirror the bond they felt inside. 

And as Callum exited his room, he let himself slip on that familiar happy memory of holding hands with Rayla, turning in circles as she opened the hidden entryway into the Silvergrove. He was fully ready to greet Rayla with a smile that spoke of the lightness in his heart only to have it falter when she opened her door. To most, she’d seem perfectly fine, but Callum saw it in her eyes. A pensive quality shadowing them. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Her smile turned wistful. “Can’t fool you, can I?”

“Were you trying to?”

“Not really. But I didn’t think it was that obvious either. Shoulda known you’d see right through me.” Pulling him into her room, Rayla closed the door and revealed all she’d been up to since leaving her art lesson. Suddenly the sullenness he’d detected made sense. And while listening to her passionately defend Lilith, Callum was reminded of Rayla’s affinity for stepping in to defend the most vulnerable. She might display a tough exterior, but for those who deserved it, she had an unlimited amount of gentleness and kindness.

“I’ll talk to Ezran,” Callum offered, but she shook her head. And that’s when he noticed she was wearing her hair differently. Two braids down her back that swished lazily with her movement. Rayla’s horns and ears were fully displayed, unlike the loose bun that had made them more of an enigma. You weren’t quite sure if you’d seen them or not.

“No, don’t say anythin’ to him.” Her voice was just short of an order. “That’s exactly what Lilith doesn’t want. If it was up to her, she’d sweep this all under the rug. For some reason, she sees herself as the problem and not the other way around.”

“That’s strange,” he said forming the thought as he spoke. “I knew they kept her hidden but she never mentioned anyone treating her hostilely. I was always under the impression that being in the palace protected her.” Rayla’s violet eyes grew wide with surprise, her mouth half-open, and the realization that he’d revealed a partial secret made him softly groan in frustration. But really, what did he expect? They were two halves of a whole and not sharing everything with her felt like a piece of him had been removed. It was unnatural. “I want to tell you, I do, but-”

“You want Lilith to tell me first?”

“Look at it this way, it’d be like if I revealed to her what happened between you and Runaan before you decided to leave. You told me that in confidence. And so is what Lilith told me.” Rayla’s mouth formed into a pout. “I’m sorry, I-I want t-to-” Callum stammered, but she made a little shushing sound and took his hand.

“No, it’s okay. I understand. I’m only frustrated I can’t help.”

“You _are_ helping,” he assured her. “You’re helping by being a friend.”

“But you know me, I can’t stand still when there’s someone in need. I’m a creature of action.”

“I thought we were old and borning.” Rayla shot him a look. Now wasn’t the time for jokes. Callum conceded and suggested they leave for dinner, but before exiting her room, he said, “Sometimes it’s okay to go slow. It’s what we’re doing, trying to ease everyone into accepting us ... and you can do that too with Lilith. Give her time to feel comfortable with you just like I do.”

“Fiiine,” Rayla reluctantly agreed, exaggerating the word. Lowering her face into a palm she shook her head, letting out a sigh. A braid fell over her shoulder. Callum collected it in his hand and brushed his thumb down the twisted strands, imaging the cascade of waves her hair would become once the silver was free from its binds. When Rayla dropped her hand, their eyes met and she mimicked the same action on his braid, the cheerful pull of her lips clearly communicating she was happy he’d kept her handiwork in place. “You know, I thought I was over gettin’ my hands dirty fightin’ others,” she said, threading her fingers through his hair, moving downward to graze the incline of his jaw, before resting her hand on his shoulder. “I like the quiet we have, but there’s still a wee voice inside my head that won’t let me be. I handled the situation with Lilith well enough, but I coulda knocked that man out with how irate I was.” A grimace briefly appeared on her face. “Sorry if that ends up causin’ you or Ez any trouble.”

"Don't worry," Callum said, leading her out the door. "If it’s the same guy we saw that morning, I doubt it. I don’t know him, so I assume he’s not anyone worth remembering." They paused as Rayla pulled a key out of a small handbag and locked her room. “And to be honest," he continued. "I never doubted your fighting spirit. Just because we’re war-weary and want to live in peace, doesn’t mean you won’t rise to the occasion if it calls for it. You were always the one jumping in headfirst to fix a problem, forcing me to fly in after you.” 

Rayla arched an eyebrow. “Was that actually a metaphor or were you bringin’ up somethin’ specific just now?”

Callum shrugged. Of course, she had the right idea. That didn’t mean he couldn’t play coy and she gently nudged her side into his. His leap of faith off a cliff to save her was an incident both accepted as a turning point in their relationship, crystalizing their love like a diamond. Unbreakable. Able to weather any obstacle. And even though they’d already begun walking through the corridors, exposing them to stares and onlookers, he snaked his arm around her back. Rayla leaned into him. “And I’d do it again in a second,” he firmly stated, although, wasn’t entirely sure he could work that arcanum so easily anymore. It had been years; Callum was out of practice. 

Swept up in the memory, they stopped for a kiss. Again out in the open, Callum experiencing a fleeting moment of apathy over anyone seeing them, before tearing his lips away. Nearby, someone had loudly coughed in an obvious ploy to alert them of their presence. Yet, when Callum swept his gaze up and down the halls, they seemed to echo with emptiness. Even so, it was enough of a shake to their senses that they edged apart and stayed that way for the rest of the walk, with him warily keeping an eye on their surroundings.

* * *

 

When guests were present, Ezran held meals in a large room complete with chandeliers, a stained oak table that stretched to fill nearly the length of the chamber, and paintings of their royal lineage lining the walls. They were doing these larger gatherings for Rayla’s sake, to get her out in the open for others to see. But usually, Ezran liked eating alone, or with Callum. Sometimes Aunt Amaya joined them. At breakfast, there had been a few advisors present, but as he approached the room for dinner, Callum saw only two people inside. His brother and someone who’d been gone for many months on assignment. And after hearing Callum walk in with Rayla, he turned his head and shouted her name with ecstatic glee.

She appeared dumbstruck and Callum whispered, “I guess Soren’s back from Xadia.”

Rayla frowned. “You never told me he was there. Or that he was comin’ back. Last I heard he’d gone to care for his mother and was still very much livin’ among humans, not Xadians.”

That news had been sent in a letter from Callum to Rayla nearly two years back. Soren’s mother had since passed away and as he didn’t have any other relatives, their former Royal Guard member had come back to his found-family again and was given the role of Emissary to the Dragons. Callum opened his mouth to explain all this, but Soren spoke over her. “So, the rumors were true,” he said, running up and unceremoniously lifting Rayla off the ground. She made a little surprised noise and then groaned as Soren began spinning. One of her braids smacked Callum in the face. 

“Soren, I’m very glad to see you,” Rayla spoke through the blur their bodies had become, “but could you please set me down?”

“Oh, sorry,” he replied, slowly coming to a stop. Then in one smooth movement, he lowered her and she stumbled against Callum. Reaching around her torso, he helped steady her. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here. I thought all those rumors couldn't possibly be true.”

“What rumors?” Rayla asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she regained her footing.

“That you’d left some elf at the altar …” He hesitated, stroking his sandy blonde beard. “Actually, I’m not sure what it’s called where you’re from, but on the road, I heard talk that you’d left him to come back here to be with Callum. I only just arrived today and it was the first thing I asked Ezran before you showed up. He hadn’t answered yet, but I guess he doesn’t have to now because here you are!”

In his excitement, Soren appeared like he wanted to lift Rayla back up. Callum began shifting his body in front of her but she placed a hand on his shoulder, halting him. _I’m fine_ \- she explained with a look. Then moving her hand over to Soren, she pulled him in for an embrace that was tender yet also effective in keeping her old friend from indulging in his more banal instincts. “I’m so happy to see you’re safe, Soren. It’s been too long. You should have dinner with us so we can catch up.”

Ezran ostentatiously cleared his throat and three sets of eyes turned to him as if suddenly remembering his presence. “I’ve already invited him to stay and sent everyone else out of the room. It’ll be only the four of us because I feel the subject matter Soren returned with might be a sensitive subject for you, Rayla.”

An alarm bell rang inside Callum’s mind and he glanced between his brother and Rayla, who’d already removed herself from Soren’s arms to stand beside him again. He took her hand and cast her a meaningful glance.

 _Rumors_.

He nodded once and followed his brother to the table, first pulling a chair out for Rayla and then settling in one beside hers. Soren chose a seat directly across from them and it wasn’t lost on Callum that Ezran sat at the head of the table. He was carrying himself in a kingly manner to help tackle a serious subject. And already, the happiness from the day’s art lesson felt like a long-ago memory. Rayla’s words from the last time they were seated like this in a room with Ezran echoed in his mind- _Nothing has ever been simple when it comes to us._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't originally plan on having another POV besides Rayla and Callum's in this series, but as this particular story grows, so does the need for more viewpoints. Hope I wrote Runaan in-character. And as is with a fantasy series like tdp, there's a ton of lore to remember and if I got a detail wrong, I'm sorry.

Runaan lost track of how many conversations he overheard about the scandal of Rayla leaving Calder. It seemed no one had anything else to talk about those first few days afterward. When the chatter began to die down, he didn’t feel relief. An unease settled over him instead. As if he were experiencing the calm before the storm. His instincts proved right when that storm inevitably came to the front door one morning. Ethari had gone to answer the knocking but Runaan held him back. It wasn’t a friendly knock. More or less a long succession of bangs that grew steadily louder. “Who’s there?” he asked through the door. The repeated thumps stopped and the voice on the other side was just as brash.

“It’s Calder. Open the door, Runaan.”

He shared a look with Ethari who stood a few feet away. Both knew exactly what this was about, but why now? Calder had kept to himself these last few weeks. They had hoped he would quietly move on from his heartache. This no longer seemed like a possibility. Runaan opened the door to reveal an elf in desperation but wearing it as a mask of anger. “What is it, Calder?”

“This is your fault,” he accused, not giving a hint as to what Runaan was to blame for. Although, he didn’t have to contemplate the meaning behind his vague words to understand them. 

Tilting his head to the side, Runaan reached across the doorframe, creating a barrier that appeared casual rather than defensive. “I’m sorry for your loss, Calder, but this is hardly the right way to handle it. Making accusations will not bring her back. Rayla made her own choices.”

At the sound of her name, Calder made a face as if his features were being pulled inward. “I never would’ve agreed to be with her had it not been for your encouragement. Everyone knew she’d been with a human during the war. And still, I reached out to her. Helped others see her as normal. And how did she repay me? She-”

Runaan glared, a fierce expression that had quieted many enemies over the years. He didn’t want to see Calder as someone to be defeated, but wouldn’t allow him to defile Rayla’s name any further. “That is where you are wrong in all of this. You view love as repayment for your actions. Love is earned, yes, but it is not currency for what we do. If this was the way you approached your relationship with her then perhaps Rayla’s choice to leave speaks more of you than it does her.” Calder’s breath came out in angry staccato bursts as if he was unable to comprehend Runaan’s reasoning. Moonshadow Elves were known for their stoicism and Calder revealing his lack of composure while under duress was unsettling. Runaan hadn’t known this about him … but maybe Rayla did. It seemed he’d severely misjudged the elf. “You should go home, Calder,” Runaan said, trying to be diplomatic. “If you leave now, I’ll forget you came here with your accusations.”

Calder squared his shoulders. He only came up to Runaan’s nose but what he lacked in height was made up for in brute strength. Even so, if he was foolish enough to challenge Runaan physically, he’d lose. “I can’t let this stand, Runaan. I’ve waited long enough. I assumed her betrayal would settle in my heart and that I could forget, but the humiliation I still feel is a curse.” 

“There is very little mention of what she did anymore. Our community has moved on from such gossip.”

With a shake of the head, Calder stepped back. “You may not hear it, but I see it in their looks. I won’t stand for it anymore.”

“And what exactly does that mean?”

Calder’s answer was a cold hard stare before he stepped back into the street. “You may choose to live in denial,” he stated, “but I won’t.” 

* * *

 

Runaan refused to speak of the episode with Calder even when Ethari tried to broach the subject. He felt a combination of shame and frustration for keeping to himself when he knew it would help them both to discuss Rayla, but not addressing the issue of their daughter leaving had been normalized by him from the moment he discovered the note left for him on her bed. A note that was still unread to this day. He didn’t have to open it to know what would be inside. Their argument the day before when he found her rifling through Callum's old letters was enough explanation and when Ethari informed him that she’d gone to Katolis, he’d determined to dismiss her letter all the more. 

That night he didn’t sleep well, leaving the bed more than once until Ethari had come to retrieve him. Bringing him back, he held Runaan until the guilt quieted to only whispers in his head. Sleep finally pulled him under, but in the morning the voices of shame overpowered his conviction until he found himself in Rayla’s room. The note still in the same spot where he’d dropped it. Without giving himself a chance to second guess his actions, Runaan picked up the letter. Unfolding it, he glanced over her handwriting and suddenly lost the ability to read. A moment later he brought up the paper again and stared at it unblinkingly. The words coming together to form a story. One that was far too somber to take in all at once. 

She wrote about her parents. Of how discovering they were truly heroes instead of traitors had changed her outlook on life. She never fully grasped what her purpose was until then. She’d been so driven by the need to clear her name from her parent's transgressions that she’d never understood the meaning of life. Her life. Callum had helped her discover that. He’d made her realize what she wanted. To help others and not pursue battles of revenge, but ones for love. Calder had never made her feel any of that. And had actually deterred her from what she wanted. Her parents died doing what they believed was right and she didn’t want to live a life full of regrets. She wanted to live for love.

_I hope one day you can forgive me, Runaan. I love you and Ethari, but I cannot continue on this path with you. I have to follow my heart in another direction and hope one day these two portions of my heart can be made whole again by your acceptance of my love for a human._

_Rayla_

At first, reading Rayla’s words made him feel disconcerted. Runaan buried his grief the same way he buried most things that were a distraction. Deep down inside so they didn’t get in the way. But what was Rayla in the way of? He truly didn’t know. And now his head was swimming with images of little Rayla kissing him on the bridge of his nose, and the dark purple tattoos he’d painted on her as a child, and of her saying, “I love you,” as he tucked her into bed.

The truth he’d tried to bury for so long, pierced him like a knife to the heart. If he stayed steadfast in his demand that Rayla exist outside the human realm, he was never going to see her again and it occurred to him then that he’d only ever tried to discourage her true self. All at his behest. He was the reason for her sorrows these last three years. He was the reason she’d run away from a bonding ceremony that never should’ve been arranged, spurning an elf who now felt animus against her for taking his honor. Runaan had been the orchestrator of this all. “Ethari,” he said, his voice nearly a whisper. Still, his mate heard him from the other room and came rushing inside. 

“What is it?” he asked. When his eyes fell on the letter in Runaan's hands, Ethari’s expression turned sympathetic.

“I’m afraid …” Runaan swallowed, then began again, “I’m afraid she never knew that I loved her.”

“That’s preposterous,” Ethari chided in that soft and gentle way he managed to deliver ever word, even during their disagreements. 

Running quickly through his memory, Runaan could find nothing. Not a single word of love to her. “I never mentioned it. Not once.”

“But it didn’t need to be spoken, my love,” Ethari soothed, cupping the side of Runaan’s face. He leaned into his touch. “You are an elf of few words but one of great deeds. Every action you take has a purpose and you _show_ your love often. I above all should know that.” Ethari’s little smile momentarily eased the ache in Runaan’s heart and despite everything, he found the corners of his own mouth pulling- however briefly- upwards. “It’s in the way you care for us. Provide for us. Only want what is best for us.”

“But did I? Did I honestly want what was best for her? Or was it what was best for me? I made her live the life I wanted. Not the one she wanted for herself.” Ethari remained silent, his agreement with Runaan’s opinion written in the apology on his face. “This is my fault. My need to protect her pushed her away.”

Admitting this out loud for the first time, broke him. He fell into Ethari’s open arms and resting his head in the crook of his neck, Runaan let the tears he’d been holding back finally flow free. “I must seek Rayla’s forgiveness and let her know that I’m sorry for all I made her endure.”

“We could send a shadow hawk,” Ethari suggested, but pulling back Runaan shook his head. 

“This needs to be done in her presence. I cannot chance my message being intercepted by anyone. And I must leave soon before Calder decides to do hold true to his thinly veiled threats.”

“Then we will go together.”

“No, I don’t-” Runaan began but Ethari silenced him with a kiss so tender, he momentarily forgot his argument.

After removing his lips, Ethari stared pointedly into Runaan’s eyes. “This isn’t an instance where you can order me to stay behind. We are not at war, except for the one you fight within yourself. Therefore, I will go and support you. That is what I promised you during our bonding ceremony and I plan to follow through.” Runaan felt Ethari’s calloused thumb brush under his eye, removing a stray tear that hadn’t yet journeyed down his face. All that tinkering with weapons left his hands rough and yet also soft. Runaan couldn’t quite explain the paradox. Only that it made him feel at home. “And you forget,” Ethari continued. “She is my daughter too. I’m afraid I was not as supportive as I would’ve liked when she was here with us. We should show her together that we will be there for her no matter who she loves.” 

Runaan gave a tight nod. A reluctant relent. “We’ll leave tonight,” he said and then left Ethari’s embrace to prepare for their trip. “Settle all your business before we go. I’m not certain when we will return.” 


	7. Chapter 7

For the rest of the evening, Rayla grappled with the very real possibility that her new life with Callum might come tumbling down at a moment’s notice. At first, she was insistent on leaving. Intercepting any altercation before it arrived, either in the form of Calder or Runaan. The rumor was that both were making their way to Katolis, although Soren had explained it was all hearsay and not directly from any Moonshadow elves. Even so, if the news had managed to stretch beyond the Silvergrove, then there was likely some truth to it. 

Callum had rather dramatically insisted she stay and after that, Rayla couldn’t deny him. The trauma of their three-year separation was still very fresh in both their minds and for now, leaving to ensure his safety wasn’t as important as staying by his side. She imagined this would be a constant battle of wills for her. Keep Callum safe or fight alongside him.

“We’ll face this together,” Callum had said once Rayla agreed to remain in Katolis.

“Together,” she repeated, trying to sound as assured as him.

“Together!” Soren added, and while it was obvious to her that Callum hadn’t meant to include him, Rayla reached across the table and patted his hand. “You may not be a Crownguard solider anymore, but you still have the spirit of one. I appreciate your willingness to help.”

Soren beamed, reminding Rayla of just how easy it was to make him happy. A simple acknowledgment usually sufficed. Viren had eviscerated his son’s self-esteem, along with all the other terrible things he’d done, and it had been one of Rayla’s goals during the war to show Soren that being on the right side of history meant he would inherit more than just an ally in her. He’d also gain a friend.

Soren’s offer coupled with Ezran's assurances that his aunt would be on alert for anything coming their way helped ease Rayla’s mind, but it was Callum’s unwavering support that comforted her the most. Still, she determined that to truly feel better she needed Callum by her side in the physical and not just the symbolic sense. A declaration of support wasn’t quite as solid as having him near her. And so, once their meal was finished and they’d taken a walk through the halls with Soren to do some more catching up, she and Callum found themselves alone, standing outside her door, stalling to say goodbye. “Stay with me tonight,” Rayla finally said after sensing he was about to leave. Inwardly, she cringed at how needy the plea passing through her lips sounded. It had only been a day since they decided not to chance him being caught in her room, but she needed the comfort of his arms, like it used to be when they traveled together. She ached to feel the contrast of his tenderness alongside the security she found while falling asleep in his embrace. 

Callum hesitated a moment, his brows pulling together in a look that resembled (but wasn’t quite) his dumb idea face. “I’ll come by later,” he answered. Her disappointment must’ve been written in her expression, because he was quick to add, “Don’t worry. All the guards are on alert. And I won’t be gone long.” He tapped his finger against her nose.

“I’m not worried,” she blurted out, not sure why it was so important to prove she wasn’t a coward. This was Callum after all and when he arched an eyebrow in response, Rayla felt embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Well, whatever you need to do, make it quick before I get bored waiting,” she huffed, crossing her arms while leaning casually against her door, in a lame attempt to backtrack her outburst. Callum snickered and pressed a quick kiss against her lips, naturally seeing through her act.

“See you in a little while,” he said and then walked around the corner.

* * *

 

Rayla jerked awake, her reflection staring back at her. The brush she’d been using to release her braids was laying on the ground and not in her hand where she’d last seen it. Through the vanity mirror, she saw Callum standing in front of a closed door, her room key dangling in his hand. How long had he been there? “What time is it?” she asked, stretching her limbs.

“About an hour or so since we last saw each other.”

Rayla narrowed her eyes at him through the mirror, only her gaze turned far less intimidating when a yawn broke free. “You said you wouldn’t be gone long.”

He shrugged and then stated in what was clearly a deflection, “Nice outfit.” 

“Oh, this old thing.” She stood to face him and did a little twirl in clothing that definitely did not deserve to be put on display. Attire that in her mind resembled a sack of moonberries. Although, when Lilith had trotted it out that morning along with all of Rayla’s other new human garments, she’d referred to it as a nightgown. White fabric stretched up her neck and fell to her ankles, with sleeves that puffed out until a frilly cuff around each wrist wrangled all the needless material together. It was hideous, but a lot more comfortable than the dress she’d worn all day. “I figured if you were gonna stay in my room, I couldn’t tempt you by wearing anythin’ that gave away the true shape of my body. So here I am. An onion.”

A light pink colored Callum’s cheeks as he laughed. Both were acceptable reactions. She loved making him squirm but there was also something wonderful in him finding her humorous. There’d been so little of that with Calder. That elf took himself far too seriously. Nearly every moment they’d spent together felt as solemn as a funeral. Suddenly, a pang of guilt spread out from her heart. She knew why Calder was on her mind but didn’t like that her ex was ruining what should’ve been a nice moment between her and Callum. Attempting to shake him from her thoughts, Rayla held out her hand and made a grabby motion. “Alright, let me have it,” she told Callum.

“Uh, what?” he asked, seemingly confused or perhaps nervous. Maybe both.

“My key,” she explained. “I wouldn’t want it fallin’ into the wrong hands, now would I?”

Callum relaxed and dropped the key into her palm. “You know, I basically own this place. I could just get another one of those and use it to sneak in.”

“But you wouldn’t dare. I think you’ve had enough experience with me to know that an action like that would get you pinned against the wall with my blades at your throat.” She winked, then wrapping her fingers around the key she placed it on the vanity’s counter, but not before noticing a new color on Callum’s retreating hand. After having spent a good portion of the day removing smudges of silver from his fingers and palms, she knew that splotch of teal hadn’t been there before. Turning back around she grasped his hand and asked, “Callum, did you leave me to go paint?” Rayla didn’t want to sound incredulous but found it difficult to rein in her mildly biting tone considering the news they’d learned from Soren. She assumed he’d gone to discuss some concern with Ezran, not indulge in his favorite hobby.

“W-what?” Callum stuttered.

“Right here.” She brushed her thumb along the teal stain marking his index finger. “I memorized your hands perfectly this afternoon and this color was not there then or even during dinner.”

“It’s not what you think,” Callum defended, but when she pursed her lips he admitted, “Well, I mean it is, but I had a perfectly good reason for leaving you to go paint.”

“Oh, really?” Rayla poked his chest. “Is that so?”

“Y-yes, really. I just don’t want to reveal it to you right this second.” He sounded somewhat annoyed and after considering whether to push him or not, she decided her need to know outweighed him being perturbed.

“So, you don’t want to reveal right this second why you were paintin’ instead of bein' here with me? Well, of course, you don't. Seems you wouldn’t want to do that because you knew you’d get a little of this.” She poked him again- more tease than display of anger- and then moved around to jab his back and shoulders. 

“Stop it, Rayla.”

“What?” she feigned innocence. “Stop this?” Facing him again, she attempted to poke his chest once more. Callum reached out to stop her movements, trapping her hands in his. She went to pull away but paused after sensing something cold and solid falling into her hands. He released his hold and there resting in her palm was her locket, no longer resembling the one Callum had taken from her earlier in the day.

“I wanted to wait a little while. Spend more time on it. And I definitely didn’t want to give it to you when you were circling me like a loon. But I guess it doesn’t matter because any moment will never be the perfect moment in my head. So now is the right moment ... I think.”

Rayla’s voice caught in her throat and for a moment she couldn’t breathe, so touched at his gesture. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something so thoughtful. The front of the locket was now divided into two portions. The left side a rusty red with tiny markings of gold and the right, teal with hints of black. Katolis colors set alongside the shade worn by most Moonshadow elves. 

“There’s more to it than just the front,” Callum commented when Rayla kept staring at his gift without saying a word. Her inability to speak had created an insecurity in him and after clearing her throat she forced her vocal cords back into use.

“There is?”

He flipped the locket over, displaying a deep violet covering what was once silver. “It’s what you get when you mix-”

“Red and teal,” she finished for him.

“I thought it could be a symbolic way of stating that despite our differences, when we come together we make a nice shade of-”

“Violet.”

“Are you going to keep finishing my sentences?” he asked with a soft chuckle.

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t be, it’s actually kinda cute, and it's also what I meant to encompass by making this for you. We go well together. We even finish each other sentences.” Gingerly, he clicked the locket’s latch and used his thumb to open it. “You can put whatever you want in here, but for now it’s filled with rose petals because, you know, that’s the flower I drew your hands with that day I told you …”

“That you liked me, which of course, was code for love. You just weren’t brave enough to say it yet.”

Callum snorted. “Well, you ran away from just the word _like_. How is that any better?”

“But, your strength has always been with words. I can never really say what I mean. It usually comes out all wrong.” Rayla paused to close the locket and with Callum’s help, she tied it around her neck. When his hands fell to his side, she finished her thought. “My strength has always lied elsewhere, like in my ability to impulsively do this.” Grasping the front of his shirt, she swept his mouth to hers. He made a soft grunt of surprise before molding his body against hers and deepening the kiss. When they finally moved apart, he began trailing his mouth up her neck, leaving soft caresses until his face was buried in her hair. She could feel his lips moving against her ear as he asked, “So I take it you like your new and improved locket.”

“Like it?” Rayla swallowed, trying to bury her sentimental side. She knew it was probably expected of her to say something profound in a moment like this, but all she wanted to do was make a joke. “Like is a word for Callum. I'm much braver. Enough to say I _love_ it and I love you.”

Callum laughed. And really, that was far better than any other response she might’ve pulled out of him. “I had hoped the locket could be like a promise.”

“A promise? What kind of promise?” she asked, staring him pointedly in the eye. 

His smile turned shy as he briefly looked off to the side. “For uh … an eventual bonding ceremony. I know things are all mixed up right now and it feels like I’m rushing into this. And in a way I am, but I don’t ever want to be with anyone else, Rayla. I’ve known it since I was fifteen. You’re my other half of the locket and together we make purple.” His face scrunched. “No, that-that was terrible. It sounded so much better in my head. We’re not purple. It's just that uh, we mix well together. We’re-”

“Compatible,” she said, repeating the word from earlier when they’d been comparing art and love. “Does that mean we’ll never get anythin' done?”

Callum’s smile widened and for a long moment, he studied her face, his eyes slowly becoming serious like green leaves swaying against a storm. “All jokes aside, what do you think? About us? Bonded?”

A pleased flush warmed her face. This was exactly the kind of promise for a future she’d wanted from a mate. Not the one Calder had come to her with- “I have a proposition for you, my love, and it is very much in your favor.” 

She could just kick herself. Again, Calder was ruining an important moment between her and Callum, and she knew it was likely due to her secrecy. Until Soren’s disclosure of what he’d learned in Xadia, Calder had been hidden in a dark corner of her mind, with Callum only knowing the bare bones of their story. Rayla had never even spoken his name. But if she and Callum were to be bonded then all that would have to come out. And with the threat of Calder’s presence looming over their very near future, the sooner the better. 

But not now. She would give Callum the attention and love he deserved. And that sentiment she’d held back before now sprang forth from a deep well of emotion. “What do I think?” she said, cupping his face, joyful tears running down her cheeks. “I think, speaking in human terms, I am saying yes to the locket and yes to being your wife."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School has started again for me, so updates might be a little sporadic the further I get into the semester.
> 
> Thanks for reading and comments are always appreciated.


	8. Chapter 8

Lying in each other’s arms, both half-awake- Rayla’s overflowing nightgown seemingly taking up half the bed; Callum in a simple undershirt and trousers, the rest of his outfit lying in a heap on the floor- it occurred to him that his proposal could’ve gone very differently. He’d been impulsive, moving much sooner than intended. That afternoon, transforming her locket into a bonding symbol had been a tiny seed of an idea slowly taking root in his mind, with the belief that there’d be weeks to sort out the perfect design to paint and setting to deliver a declaration of love rivaling the original Rayla had teased him with earlier. _Like,_ would be replaced with a very definitive _love_. An everlasting devotion that would only end when he did. 

Soren’s news had changed all that. 

Urgency took over- much like Rayla’s tone when she’d asked him to stay through the night- prompting him to hastily grow his idea until it bloomed into the less than perfect proposal he’d presented her with. Thankfully, fate was on his side when she accepted his offer. And not merely a simple agreement to be his wife, but an enthusiastic yes with tears flowing down her cheeks. But thinking about it now, he acknowledged Rayla could’ve easily cried for a different reason and would’ve had every right to throw his proposal back at him, saying, “How could you ask me such an important question when we’re dealin’ with so much?” 

But thank the stars she hadn’t. 

And seeing her heartfelt response had stirred his own emotions until their kisses became salty. Tears blended with lips as he guided her to the bed for a more intimate moment that ended a short time later when he instinctively recognized the boundary neither were willing to push past just yet. Like always, when things edged too near this precipice, Callum silently reminded himself of all the practical reasons why they’d come to this decision, leaving the personal one for last as it resonated the most. He may have run headlong into asking for her hand, but he’d make sure this other part of their love was given its rightful due. 

Yet, unlike all the other instances, Callum found his resolve wilting in the afterglow of their promise to be bonded. Rayla looked stunning, resting on her side, their faces inches from apart. Of course, she was beautiful to him no matter what. But there was a subtle change. A radiance. Even in her fluffy outfit that hid any indication she might contain a shape underneath all that fabric, he felt an ache for her. And not just a desire for her body. It went deeper. Rayla gave him hope. Hope for a better life together than the one that kept them hidden inside a palace wishing the contentious factions of their communities would remain civil long enough for them to present themselves as a couple. An _engaged_ couple. The added word turned the steady beat of his heart into a drum loud enough for him to hear.

Staring at Rayla now- eyes heavy-lidded, lips slightly swollen from pressing against his for so long, and free-flowing waves framing her face like silver threads of silk- he was struck by the memory of when the details of her face began to muddy. An absolute panic had swept over him at the notion she was slipping away not only from his life but his mind as well. In the weeks since her return, he’d once again grown accustomed to all the details that made her unique. A few features had changed with age, but she was still his Rayla. The face he’d stared at while falling asleep in the most uncomfortable circumstances during the war. Certainly not like where they were now. And he mused that while much of their relationship remained the same, like the sensation that everything could come crashing down around them at any second, other portions were very much different. 

Rayla must’ve felt his gaze because her lids slowly lifted and she moved the hand draped over Callum’s waist slowly up to his face. _Another kiss_ he thought and went to oblige, but winced when she tugged sharply on his ear. “Ow!”

“How can you expect me to fall asleep if you’re eyein' me like that? It’s unsettlin’.” There was a slight upward pull to her lips, then Rayla raised herself until she was kneeling across Callum’s waist and lap. His surprised gasp turned into a smirk as he propped himself up against a pillow, moving his hands over her hips before resting them on her waist. Well, what he could find of it anyway.

“This nightgown is terrible,” he complained, gently tugging on a loose thread. “I had no idea that women in Katlois were forced to wear such bulky shapeless things while they slept.” 

“What? You’ve never seen a woman’s nightgown before?” Her question was a mixture of tease and bewilderment. 

“Sorry, but I don’t go looking in on women while they’re sleeping.”

“Only me, right?” 

“Only you.”

Rayla leaned over for a brief kiss then stated, “Honestly, you humans are much too prudish. Most elves outfits aren’t gender-specific. And I can promise you, we have nothin’ like this,” she made a dramatic circular motion around her nightgown, “back in Xadia. I honestly would’ve burned this monstrosity with glee had someone suggested I wear it.”

“Then you shouldn’t wear it,” Callum replied. When Rayla’s eyebrows shot up, it took him a moment to understand why. “I uh, no, I meant like in general. N-not um, right now. I-I didn’t mean you-”

Rayla laughed, silencing his manic stuttering. “Don’t worry, I only half-believed you. I just like seein’ the look of terror on your face when you’ve realized you unintentionally said somethin’ wrong. It’s so cute.”

A prickle of chagrin ran up his spine but Callum ignored it. Taking her taunting in stride, he said, “Glad you find even my bad qualities charming.” And then pulling in a deep breath, he attempted to maneuver the subject back to what he’d actually intended before she’d turned it into a joke. “I mean it though. And not just about the nightgown. I don’t think you should have to wear anything that makes you uncomfortable. It was obvious with the way you kept tugging at your dress all day, that you hated it. And you know, not all women wear dresses here. Yes, it’s customary, but even humans recognize that it would be stupid for a solider to fight in a frilly gown just because they also happen to be a woman.”

“But I’m not a soldier. I don’t wanna fight anymore.”

“No, you’re Rayla, and that means you should dress however you want. Be whoever you are. This- this idea of Ezran’s, making others see you as one of us, sounds good if you look at it pragmatically. He’s King and so he deals in practicalities- what’s best for everyone as a whole- but that doesn’t take into account you as an individual. Your wants and needs. You shouldn’t have to change just because you want to be with me.”

Rayla opened her mouth, looking like she had a counter-argument. He might’ve let her interrupt if the words weren’t flowing so easily off his tongue, almost as if his point might get lost in the shuffle if she took control of the conversation.

“And even if you say that being with me makes you happy and you could throw all those other parts of you into a box, and set them aside until things get better, well, I’d say that I don’t want that. I want all of you. I want you to be who _you_ are, and with everything hanging over our heads- this other elf and Runaan possibly coming to make trouble for us- I just think it’s time to be ourselves and not what everyone else wants us to be.”

Rayla’s expression was unreadable and for a moment he wasn’t entirely sure he’d said the right thing. His conscience screamed at him to backtrack, but outwardly he remained calm.

“Oh, Callum,” she finally said before leaning forward and resting her head on his shoulder. He felt her breath on his neck, a tender sigh that hitched into a sob. And then tears, falling like raindrops on his skin as she moved closer until Callum’s body was swathed in her arms and legs. 

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“What? Why are you sorry?”

“I’m sorry that I kept Calder a secret and now you think all is lost so you’re givin’ me speeches about how we should just be ourselves because we’re nearin’ the end.”

Calder must’ve been that other elf’s name. He set this knowledge aside for later and focused on Rayla completely misinterpreting him. “That is not what I intended for you to get out of this at all. I truly meant it as a way of letting you know that I’ll go wherever you do. I’ll let you be whoever you are. I know we thought staying in Katolis was the right answer, because of Ez, but maybe it’s not. Maybe we have to chart our own path.”

Rayla pulled back, a cautious look in her eyes. “But that means startin’ over. Beginnin’ again somewhere else.” She tugged on the locket around her neck. “Runnin’ away.”

“No, we’d be running towards what we’ve always been meant to do. Map our own destiny. Without the noise from everyone else. It doesn’t even have to be a cottage with flowers like we’ve talked about, it can be whatever we want.” 

Remnants of Rayla’s tears had created twin iridescent lines running down her tattoos. He reached up and wiped one away with his thumb and she leaned into his hand. Her wariness was warranted, but they’d weathered worse together. He was confident they could pull through anything as long as it was the two of them, fighting side by side. 

At last, she gave a nod, a tiny dip of agreement, and Callum felt as if a weight were being lifted from his shoulders, which didn’t seem like the right reaction to have as they were essentially heading into the unknown. He should be terrified. Or worried at the very least. And yet, all that thrummed through him at that moment his love for Rayla, and for Callum, that would always be enough.

“And will you still give me art lessons in this new life we’re chartin’ together?” Rayla asked with a toss of her head, waves of silver flying over her shoulder.

Callum chuckled. “Where there is love, there is always art.”

Rayla smiled, but then paused and Callum could see her struggling with what she wanted to say next. “Before we do this, begin plannin’, I think I need to come clean and say somethin’ I shoulda on my first day here.”

“And what’s that?”

“Tell you about the elf that might have a vendetta against me,” she said faintly. “And you by association. An individual you might have a run-in with one of these days.” She hesitated, glancing over to the window, its curtains remaining stationary ever since they’d closed it to keep their voices from being heard.

“Rayla … Rayla, please look at me,” he said, coaxing her face back to his with a gentle nudge of the chin. “I could never blame you for the life you lived while we were separated, and you have to know that whatever happens because of him, it’s not your fault.”

When one of her shoulders lifted and lowered as if she didn’t truly believe him, a powerful desire to prove her wrong radiated from his heart, the drum-beat returning, echoing inside his chest. Even so, Callum held back, experience telling him she needed to weather her guilt on her own terms. Rayla was extremely stubborn. A martyr when it came to matters she viewed as past transgressions and all he could do to help was support her, not try and change her mind. 

“Okay, then …” Callum sighed. “Tell me about Calder. I’m assuming that’s who this is about.”

She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, some humor returning to her expression. “Well, the first thing you should know is that the name Calder means rough waters and he was very proud of that fact, mentioned it many times, so right there, you can see what a terribly mismatched pair we were.”


	9. Chapter 9

Until Callum came along, Rayla had never suffered a broken heart before. 

What happened with her parents took place when she was a child. Believing she was too young to fully grasp the situation, Runaan and Ethari had kept her in the dark. When she was finally old enough to learn the truth, her heart had remained in one piece. If anything it made her stronger. Transformed her into the fighter she became by giving her a purpose. A mission to right the past. 

Callum was different. Rayla had spent so much time with him, that when their relationship came to an end, she compared the experience to severing a limb. It would be possible to survive the initial wound, but the outcome meant being forever altered. She could never go back to that person she’d been. And after a time, the injury did manage to clot and heal, creating scar tissue so thick that it was impossible to feel anything underneath. A deep dullness settled in the hole where her heart had once been. A permeating cold that kept her moving, but didn’t give her life. It was like this for over a year. Living, but not thriving. Until Runaan decided to step in.

They’d gone on a mission. Word was growing within the Silvergrove that anti-magics were clustering along the Xadian border. Humans who stood against magical creatures not just with their statements but in their deeds as well. Peace with Xadia was not acceptable to them and pockets of resistance had been popping up here and there. But spying on them had proved fruitless, except to dig up old feelings in Rayla. The cold temporarily thawing, her heart stuttered to life, beating with the memory of love. All it took was seeing a human again for those past emotions to stir. It certainly hadn’t helped that one of them bore a striking resemblance to a certain Katolis prince. 

Upon returning home, she’d promptly fallen to pieces and exacerbated her sorrow by reading all of Callum’s old letters. When Runaan caught her weeping and discovered the reason, a short argument ensued resulting in her tucking Callum’s memory away once and for all just like when she’d stopped sending him letters. Rayla had hardly put up a fight. Experiencing emotions again had been awful. She wanted the cold. It was much better to feel nothing at all.

A week later, Runaan stood in her doorway, his face impassive as usual. He did have other expressions, but they were always hard to detect, even for her. Only Ethari could truly see the emotions behind the mask. “It’s all in the eyes,” he’d once told her.

Rayla looked at them now. Twin sky-blue windows into a soul that seemed to care only for his duty. “I have work for you.” 

 _Naturally_.

“We just got back, Runaan. I’d rather not leave again so soon. Send someone else.” Truthfully, she didn’t care. Rayla just didn’t want to be assigned to another human settlement. 

“I’m not sending you away. This requires only a walk through the Silvergrove. Ethari needs a few items.”

Rayla arched an eyebrow at the prospect of gathering supplies. Why couldn’t Ethari go? Spies didn’t fetch things for Tinkerers. Runaan clearly had ulterior motives and it was almost comical at how easily she'd detected this. He was supposed to be a master manipulator. Never giving anything away while getting everything he needed from you. And here he was. As easy to read as a nursery book. Rayla kept her suspicions to herself and walked away feeling a hint of satisfaction. Ethari may have been able to read Runaan’s emotions, but Rayla could see through a ploy and so she treated it as a challenge. _What is he trying to accomplish?_

A few trips later and the puzzle pieces locked together with a satisfying thunk inside her mind. She’d taken the job as Ethari’s runner in stride. “When we’re not training or on a mission it gives you something to do besides losing yourself in that garden you love so much,” Runaan had said, but what he truly meant was, “It gives you a chance to talk with Calder.”

Rayla surmised as much when this certain elf was the only one who ever filled her cart with blocks of wood, sheets of steel, and tweed to make rope. Every instance she walked through his door, he was there to offer assistance, making her wonder if Calder had anyone else he could rely on. Another elf perhaps who took over so he could do things other than just help Rayla. He seemed to be the only supplier around. Until one day when he offered to walk her home, Ethari’s order much larger than usual. Typically, she would’ve presented Calder with a list of items Ethari intended to make. It was how the Silvergrove ran as one harmonious order. No elf was to take more than they needed, their system was meant to benefit everyone. Rayla had an inclination though that Calder was bending the rules because she was Runaan’s daughter. “But who will manage while you’re gone?” she asked, glancing around.

“I’m not the only supplier here,” Calder responded as if this was common knowledge. He tossed his head in such a way that it seemed deliberate. Meant to show off his strong jaw and shockingly brilliant smile. Maybe a lesser elf would’ve been fooled but not a former assassin who’d had a pivotal role taking down not only Viren’s army but the villainous man himself. Calder wasn’t trying to walk her home; he was trying to make an impression, attempting to form a relationship outside of their amicable supplier and runner back and forth. Instinct shot up her spine. Fight or flight. That didn’t really work in this scenario. What would she be fighting him over? And running away wasn’t the sanest idea either. But the sensation was there all the same.

Rayla had grown so used to the cold that feeling anything else was a shock to her system. This wasn’t love like she had for Callum. This wasn’t the determination she experienced while training. This was terror, plain and simple. “I …” her throat felt coated in honey that tasted like bile. She attempted to swallow but managed to only choke on saliva.

Calder leaned in, studying her like he was reading a list of supplies, mentally adding up what he needed to retrieve for her. “Maybe some other time,” he finally said, obviously seeing the fractured mind that had produced such a strong reaction to a simple question. 

Shame flooded her; she was better than this. “No, it’s fine,” Rayla somehow found the ability to say. “We can …” she took a deep breath, steadying herself, attempting to make it look as natural as possible. She could act normal. _I am normal_. “I’d appreciate your company.”

He grinned and took one of the cart’s handles, his biceps flexing, all that lifting of supplies noticeably paying off for him. “Shall we?” he asked and Rayla nodded, returning his smile with a shy one of her own. 

In the following months, she would come to realize that despite all the smiles he graced her with that day, Calder tended to be a stoic individual, saving his lighter moments for when he could see she truly needed them. The exact inverse of Callum who was more apt to toss her a loving tease while smirking but also knew when it was time to deliver a serious speech. In a way, she appreciated their differences. She would never confuse one for the other.

And in the end, it was a desire for her community’s approval that pushed Rayla into Calder’s arms. She imagined this need as armor, taking it off every evening but making sure to cover herself with its assurances each morning. The metal thicker than any scar-tissue her heart had formed. She never wanted to be in that situation again. Afraid of being near another because she still held onto Callum’s memory. That wasn’t normal and she desperately wanted to be seen like everyone else. 

Love came in many different forms, she reasoned. Calder’s affection was in the security he provided. It meant a great deal to her that because of him she wasn’t on the edge of falling to pieces over a lost love anymore and could temporarily forget all the terrible things she’d done during the war. When it became clear that he wanted to solidify their bond with a ceremony, the progression seemed natural. Even if he had worded it as if he were her benefactor, Rayla understood that this was simply his way of speaking. Calder was logical if nothing else and his callousness wasn’t due to a cruel spirit. Just a practical one. She’d agreed to his proposal and in a rare show of emotion, Runaan had embraced her with such warmth she was struck speechless. In his mind, Rayla was finally moving on from Callum. Her heart had been healed. 

And she’d thought so too … until her bruise. A small reminder that her armor wasn’t impenetrable. She was able to be broken. And what she truly wanted was someone to help her see that, not hide it away with platitudes of how normal she was. Callum had seen her weaknesses as strengths. He'd witnessed and loved the real her and not some protective covering she put on for everyone else.

After leaving a goodbye note for one of her fathers, she encountered the other in his workshop. Rayla had many fond memories of tinkering alongside Ethari before she’d learned of her parent’s betrayal and demanded Runaan train her as an assassin. Ethari hadn’t approved but didn’t want to stand in the way of her declared destiny either. But now she now was declaring a different destiny and this time he agreed. “Don’t hold it against Runaan,” Ethari had told her. “His heart is in the right place. He only wants what’s best for you, and sometimes he can be a bit blind to other points of view, the rigidity of his will is a blessin’ and a curse. That’s why he has you and I to guide him in the right direction when he’s unwilling to move.” Ethari describing her as a voice of reason for Runaan felt like a ploying way of convincing her to stay, but Ethari meant it only as a symbol. “The three of us are tethered and soon that string will pull you back to us, but it’ll be on your own terms and only when you’re ready."

Rayla tried to steady her trembling hands as Ethari pulled hers into his and gave them a squeeze. She didn’t want him sensing the waves of nervousness sweeping up and down her body. Leaving the home they’d rebuilt from the ashes of war, and heading off in the direction of someone she wasn’t even sure wanted her anymore was terrifying. Still, Rayla had to know if a life with Callum was possible, and Ethari understood. “You will always have a place in my heart and even if he doesn’t always say so, Runaan’s as well. But now it’s time to follow _your_ path. Not Runaan’s. Not Calder’s. Not your parent’s or even mine. Go and find your truth.”

Calder hadn’t been quite as accepting. Which was understandable. And had she been a coward it would’ve been much easier to fade away with the early morning fog than face him. Rayla couldn’t do that though. He deserved to hear it from her, and not the gossip that would ultimately erupt when their community realized Rayla had gone missing. She went to his home, wanting to give him as much privacy as possible for such a delicate matter. A promise to be bonded was rarely broken. Only in extreme circumstances and she doubted being in love with someone else would make that shortlist of acceptable reasons.

When he opened the door, Calder’s greeting was warm enough albeit a little confused. “Why are you here so early? Is everything alright?”

Walking through the archway, Rayla swept her gaze around, taking in the setting of a place she might’ve called home, but most likely would’ve never felt like one. “Please, sit down,” she said, gesturing to a table with two chairs. After giving him the briefest of explanations and intentionally leaving out Callum, it was as if Calder didn’t hear her. He stood and began pacing, which then transitioned into mentioning all that was required of him that day. She might as well have been invisible. A memory of the last time she'd experienced this feeling reverberated in her heart. She refused to be erased again.

“Calder,” Rayla was soft, polite, and careful. “Did you hear me?” Coming to stand beside him, her hand found his shoulder. He flinched and she tried not to take it personally. “I’m so sorry, Calder. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You're leaving me to be with Callum, aren't you?”

The frostiness in his statement crept up under her skin. Even if it was common knowledge that she'd been with a human during the war, Rayla rarely spoke of Callum and had only mentioned him once to Calder. A story that had nothing to do with love, but rather a recurring nightmare of the day he’d almost died and she’d been forced to take another elf’s life. “If you must know then yes, but this has more to do with me than him. I’m not happy here.”

“You mean you’re not happy with me.”

Rayla shook her head, she went to touch him again but Calder recoiled. “I _was_ happy and content to be with you, but it’s not enough. I can’t stay in this same life day after day. I need to find …” She paused, Ethari’s parting words echoing inside her mind. “I need to find my truth.”

“Your truth?” He spat the phrase like it was a curse and then his voice came out in a guttural rush of indignation, “I did … I did so much for you, gave you so much. How could you … this is not what I … how is this possible? I did everything right. For you. All of it was for you. I fixed you. Me. I did that.”

Calder’s outburst had just enough sharp edges that Rayla felt as if she’d stumbled into one of her rose bushes, thorns piercing her heart. She might not love Calder in the way he wanted her to but she still cared for him and hearing him speak so condescendingly stung her soul. Then a memory flashed through her mind of Callum holding her hand, extolling gratitude for her bruises because they meant she was a brave fighter. He didn’t think Rayla needed fixing. Never had. And at that moment, neither did she.

Rayla didn’t offer Calder any more explanations for why she was leaving. She didn’t bring up Callum or her need to move in a direction that was truly her own. She was done. It was true that ending their relationship was a betrayal, so she would do Calder the honor of not putting him in his place like every impulse was urging her to do. Instead, she apologized once more and walked out the door, never giving him a second glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this the end of part 1.
> 
> Edit: this story will be on a short hiatus, a month or two at most but I promise to come back.


End file.
